Fragile and Broken
by Lauricula
Summary: "It felt strange to be nervous to see her husband. The last time she was nervous to see him had been on their wedding day, but that excitement didn't fill her with dread and anxiety. She had shut out her hurting husband for two months and if she knew her husband at all, he was going to be very, very angry."
1. Talk to Me

~Chapter 1~

Talk to Me

Draco sat across from his ex-nemesis from Hogwarts. He dug his thumbs into his temple, hesitant to meet the green eyed Wizard's eye. What few customers were in the coffee shop bustled about, in a hurry to get their coffee and muffin on their lunch break. Draco had asked Harry to meet him and had chosen a table in the back, guaranteeing them some privacy. The two weren't exactly the best of friends, despite Draco being married to Harry's best friend, which made this meeting just a bit more awkward. He could feel Harry's concerned eyes on him and he quickly searched for words to break the silence.

"I don't know what to do." Draco sighed.

Harry blinked. "You mean about Hermione?" he asked for clarification.

He nodded. "I know it hasn't been long but I at least want to apologize to her. She won't even see me." his tone was mixed with frustration and worry.

He wanted his wife back. He knew he hadn't acted proper, but the news had been just as tragic to him. Harry continued to watch him as he struggled to form the inevitable question.

"Could you talk to her for me?" Malfoy just barely whispered. Ginny wouldn't let him see her, which to be honest, he understood. Ginny is her best friend...Draco would always honor the wishes of his best friends, no matter his view point of the situation.

Harry gave Draco a look of sympathy. "I can try. But don't get your hopes up...she's still really upset. Can you blame her though?"

"No." he admitted. "Just...let her know I'm sorry. I know I was out of line."

Harry silently agreed. "I'll erm...send you an owl letting you know how it went."

Draco nodded, allowing Harry to dismiss himself. Draco remained in his seat, emotions swirling inside him.  
It had been so long since he had seen his wife...two months was too long. Part of him clung on to hope that Harry  
would be able to talk her in to seeing him...and another part felt the need to cruelly remind him he had married the  
most stubborn woman on the planet.

Drowning the rest of his coffee, he flung a few bills on the table before walking out into the blistering cold, protecting his now tear-soaked cheeks against the harsh winter winds.

Harry arrived in his comfy living room, seeing his red-headed wife flipping through the latest edition of Witch Weekly. Her attention  
turned to her stressed out husband as he approached her.

"So...how did it go?" she asked nervously, tucking a piece of wind blown hair behind his ear.

"He wants me to talk to her. Gin...I don't know how that's going to go." Harry mumbled, observing the throw up stain  
James left in the carpet when he was three.

Ginny's soft hand rubbed his knee. "It's worth a shot." her voice was firm.

As much as he wanted to believe his wife, he couldn't, at least not fully. Harry knew what Hermione's answer would be. But it was  
who she was, and he absolutely adored that about her.

"Guess I'll go and do this now." he blew out a long puff of air, giving her a false-hopeful look.

"Good luck." Ginny smiled softly as her husband rose and headed towards the staircase.

Harry waited for a few seconds, listening for any sounds coming from Hermione's room, but all that greeted his ears was silence. His  
raw knuckles collided with the wooden door three times before waiting for a response.

Thankfully, he heard tiny footsteps approaching the door, before it clicked open, revealing an empty looking witch. Her brown eyes  
a darker shade, with dark circled underneath to match. Her once attempted-controlled hair was now all over the place, the frizziest Harry had ever seen it. Hermione's once even, pale skin was now a gray-ish color.

"What is it, Harry?" her voice soft but cold.

"Can, I erm, come in for a few minutes, please? I thought we could talk." his voice was shaky, but he forced a smile.

She paused for a moment, contemplating whether she wanted company. Slowly, she moved out of the way and opened the door a few more inches, allowing Harry just enough room to squeeze into the bedroom.

Clothes littered the floor, along with various cups and plates she had let sit. The blinds drawn shut, not letting an ounce of light in.  
Hermione shut the door quickly and sat on the edge of her bed. Harry sat down a few inches away, unsure how he should start the conversation.

"How have you been feeling?" He asked, thinking was a perfectly safe place to start.

She shrugged. "The same. Devastated, hurt, betrayed." her voice was dry, as if she had shed all her tears over the past two months.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Harry nodded. "I talked to Draco today." the words had slipped out before he could stop them. He didn't want to announce that yet, but now it was too late. Harry watched as anger and confusion flashed across Hermione's face, before finally stopping at curiosity.

"What did he have to say?" her tone was icy, but he could tell she was interested. Her lips pursed into a tight line.

"He said he was sorry, and Hermione, I really think he meant it..." his voice trailed off.

"Well...I'm glad to hear that. He should be!" her voice growing shakier with every word. Maybe this was too soon.

"I can leave, 'Mione. If you want some-" he began, but Hermione cut him off.

"What else did he say?" her brown eyes now boring into his.

Harry took a breath before plunging into a recap of their conversation.

Draco made his back to the Manor. Emptiness greeted him, though it was anything but welcoming. The air stale and foreign; he hadn't been here since before he and Hermione married two and a half years back. Hopefully, his Mother would be willing to listen. She didn't hate Hermione, persay, but she had never put in effort to get to know her. She kept her distance and though Draco had never told his mother this, it hurt.

He wandered up to the library, where she usually spent her days. Sure enough, there she was; lounging in an arm chair, book in her hands, a glass of wine on the table next to her. Sunlight seeped through the large windows, illuminating her platinum hair. He thought about turning around and just leaving her be, but he couldn't hold all this in much longer.

"Mum?" he piped. "Do you have a minute?"

Narcissa looked up from her book to see her distressed 28 year old son standing in front of her, hands in his pockets. "Of course, Draco. Sit. Let me get you some wine."

Normally he would say no, he was trying not drink during this time of trauma, but he supposed this one time wouldn't hurt. He sat in a puffy arm chair across from his Mother as she poured him a glass.

"What's on your mind, dear?" she asked tentatively. Of course she knew about what had happened with Hermione and Draco, but saying it was something no one was ready to do yet.

Draco cirled the top of wine glass with his thumb, contemplating where he wanted to start. "I met with Potter today."

Normally, his mother would have probably choked on her drink and given him a look of concern. But instead he just got a look that said 'go on'.

"I asked him to talk to Hermione...she hasn't spoken a word to me since...you know." He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to the ceiling. The thought still brought fresh rounds of tears to his eyes, tears he'd rather not shed.

"To be fair, sweetheart, you weren't exactly...comforting, or respectful." his mother pointed out.

"I know." he growled. "Is everyone forgetting it was just as horrible for me as it was for her? She may have been pregnant but...we were both going to be parents." The words sounded wrong, and selfish, but he knew what he meant in his mind. He knew it took more of a toll on Hermione, but it also didn't mean he wasn't affected at all.

"Anyway..." before his mother could interject. "I told him to tell her I'm sorry. Because I am...I was so...caught up in my emotions and I just lost it. That's understandable right?" he asked, hoping for some reassurance.

Narcissa nodded. "I know how hard and heartbreaking this is for the pair of you. As long as you're genuinely sorry, I'm sure she'll talk to you when she's ready." he heard the emphasis she put on 'ready'.

"But how long will that be? This is killing me, not talking or seeing her. I should be the one comforting her!" his voice raising in volume. He hadn't realized how angry he was...

"Draco, she lost her child. Her body, her mind, they're healing right now. She's been through a lot. I know you want to comfort her," she smiled sadly, placing a delicate hand on his knee. "but just respect her space right now. Let her come to you, it will be better that way."

As much as he hated it, the tears started to flow. Slowly at first, but soon it was like rain. He quickly placed his hands over his eyes as if this would hide what was happening. Draco's shoulders began to shake as his sobs continued; the anger, the hurt, the overwhelming sadness rushing down his cheeks. His mother's hand remained firmly on his knee, her thumb now gently caressing him. They stayed like that, for what seemed like ever; her son was inconsolable, so she just watched.

Hermione nodded as Harry finished his recap of his previous meeting with her husband. "He wants to talk to me?" she asked, making sure she heard him right.

"Yes." Harry responded.

"Should I let him?" his best friend asked, looking to him for an answer.

"Do you really want to know my opinion?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously before saying yes.

"There's no doubt that you're experiencing a lot of trauma...what you had to go through was...horrendous, and I completely understand why you've reacted this way. But," Hermione mentally rolled her eyes. She knew a 'but' was coming. "Draco's in pain too, Hermione. He's hurting, and he's confused, and he just wants...you. When you two got married, you made vows. You promised each other to be there, especially in times like this." he spoke softly and gently.

"I need time to heal!" she retorted, her nostrils flaring.

Harry looked at her through his eyelashes. "It's been two months, 'Mione. Don't you think this process could be a bit easier with him by your side? He's the only other one who understands how you feel and I _don't_ mean that in the way you think. We want to understand, and to an extent we do. But we've never actually experienced this, Hermione. Draco has, and so have you...you're in this together. Please, give him a chance to talk."

At first he thought he was going to be punched, judging by the look on her face. But then her muscles relaxed and she closed her tired eyes. "Okay." she muttered, fiddling with her fingers. A dull ache rose to her head and she just wanted to sleep now. Everything exhausted her. The miscarriage had taken a huge toll on her. "I'll send him an owl and tell him to come over tomorrow at noon. If that's alright with you and Gin." she eyed her best friend hopefully.

Harry shook his head. "We'll be at work and the kids will be with Molly. The house is all yours. Get some rest. I'll bring dinner up for you later, okay?"

The messy-haired wizard placed a small peck on her cheek before walking out of her room.

It felt strange to be nervous to see her husband. The last time she was nervous to see him had been on their wedding day, but that excitement didn't fill her with dread and anxiety. She had shut out her hurting husband for two months and if she knew her husband at all, he was going to be very, very angry.

Draco paced around his bedroom anxiously. The clock ticked by slowly, with forty minutes left until he was due to speak to Hermione. He had already decided shouting and being angry with her would only make matters worse, so now he was left with a bunch of condolences that sounded strange on his tongue. It pissed him off that this was so difficult for him; Hermione was his wife for fuck's sake. He should know exactly what to say, but the words just ran away.

He flopped down on an arm chair in his study. A bottle of Firewhisky sat on his desk and he eyed it with temptation. _No_, he told himself, he couldn't. He had never had an alcohol problem before, but he knew the sensation it gave him...the numbness, the relief from reality. And that's all he wanted right now, relief from reality. But showing up drunk to talk to Hermione was definitely a bad way to start this.

Hermione rushed around picking up clothes and sending her dishes to the kitchen with a flick of her wand. She had showered for the first time in days and she had to admit, she felt somewhat refreshed. Refreshed enough to talk to Draco today, which was slowly approaching. Nerves exploded in her stomach every few minutes or so as her brain reminded her how long it's been since she'd seen him. Thoughts of that day came rushing back but she pushed them out. Now was not the time.

She checked her teeth, making sure she had brushed them and combed her hair into a twisty up-do. A dark purple sweater fitted against the small curves of her hips, meeting with her black jeans. The silver book pendant Draco had given her for this past anniversary sat against her neck, glimmering in the sunlight that she now allowed to shine through.

Her bed was made, the floor was visible and there were no funky smells. At least her room was organized, unlike her brain. Thoughts just kept swirling, like a never-ending hurricane. She still hadn't figured out what to say, and it frustrated her. She always knew what to say. Her heart felt like it was going to burst through her chest, while her stomach felt as though it had dropped to her butt. She wasn't ready for this...it was too soon.

But it was too late. Her clock struck twelve, and after a few seconds of anxiously staring at the fireplace, her husband appeared.

Ginny knocked on Harry's office door, hoping she wasn't disturbing him.

"Come in." he called pleasantly.

She slipped through the door, shutting it behind her. The auror was busy filing through paperwork as she sat down on the edge of his desk.

"It's noon." she said anxiously, nudging his arm.

Harry put down his quill and looked up at her, reassuringly. "Honey, I'm sure it's going fine. They need each other right now. I highly doubt either one of them wants to start an argument."

Ginny shook her head. "I'm not worried about that. I'm just...worried in general. Maybe I haven't exactly shown it but...it's been driving me crazy. I've never seen Hermione like this, and certainly not Draco. They're both so..fragile. Fragile and broken. How on Earth are they going to get through this?" Tears were brimming her eyes. Seeing her best friend in this much pain was practically unbearable.

Harry stood and embraced his wife, inhaling the scent of apples wafting off her hair. "They'll get through it together. And hey, they have us! And Ron and Alexa. Luna, Neville, George and Agelina, her parents, your parents...they're going to get through this. Promise." he placed a kiss on her pale forehead and smiled sweetly.

Ginny returned the smile but with much less pep. "I hope so."

"Come on, let's go get some lunch. Maybe go to our old spot...we have time for a quick snog, don't we?" he joked, leading her out of his office, followed by a somewhat playful jab at his ribs.

"Harry James Potter!" she laughed as the door shut behind them.

Brown eyes met gray as he appeared in her bedroom, both saying nothing for a solid ten seconds. But before either one of them could gather their words, their bodies crashed against each other. His arms around her waist, squeezing her with all his might, while her arms wrapped around his neck, burying her face into his neck.

"I missed you so much." she whispered, trying to hold back tears.

He wanted to reply sarcastically, but knew that could wait. "I missed you too." his words pressed into the top of her head. If they could just stay like this, forever, oh that would make him so happy...

Neither one knew how long exactly they stood there hugging, but their grips didn't loosen. Her heart beat could be felt against his chest, the warmth of his body radiating on to her. He inhaled her scent, having been deprived of it for two months.

As if reading each other's minds, they pulled apart, each taking a seat on her queen sized bed.

"I'm sorry." they said at the same time.

Draco looked up, puzzled at his wife, to find the same expression on her face. A smile spread across his lips, the feeling so unfamiliar now. He didn't realize how stiff those muscles could get...

Sadness coated her eyes, her words dripping with guilt. "I shouldn't have shut you out. I just...I didn't know what to do or think or say. All I knew was that I wanted to be alone. And I think...I think part of it was having to look at you...and knowing that our child was a combination of the two of us, it was just too much. I just couldn't do it and I'm sorry."

He wouldn't deny, her words stung a little, but he figured he deserved them. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have been angry at you...it obviously wasn't your fault. S'just I needed to blame someone for what happened, but it shouldn't have been you."

If they had been having a conversation six years ago, when they were still dating, she would have been surprised it had gone so well. They were both so stubborn back then...the thought made her giggle.

"What?" Draco asked, a curious smile appearing.

Hermione shook her head. "Remember how stubborn we used to be?" her tone light and airy for the first time in months.

His eyes crinkled as his smile grew wider. "Oh we used to never apologize...just demanding that the other apologize."

And before they knew it they were both laughing, tears forming in their eyes, their abdominal muscles beginning to ache. But the laughter soon turned into crying. Draco brought his wife into his arms. They laid down on her bed, holding each and crying. They hadn't properly mourned together yet. His shirt began to soak in Hermione's tears as she cried into his shoulder, shaking.

It seemed like an eternity that they lay there, mourning the loss of their unborn child. But sure enough, the tears stopped and exhaustion took over. Slowly their eyes drifted closed, their breathing growing steady and bodies intertwined on her queen sized bed. Two would-have-been parents, together properly for the first time in two months, sleeping soundly.

**~A/N: I'm back! I got inspiration for this only yesterday and wrote the first chapter! I hope I can keep this going, so reviews from my readers will definitely help! Let me know what you think!~**


	2. Storm

~Chapter 2~

Storm

The next morning both the witch and wizard awoke groggy, unaware of their surroundings. With the apologies out of the way, an awkward air hung between them.

"I think you should go." Hermione whispered, hugging herself in the white comforter.

"What!" Draco nearly shouted, but quickly adopted a gentler tone with his wife. "Hermione, we just reunited...it's been two months. Don't shut me out again..."

He was desperate, but she was still wounded. She swallowed before looking at him. "Draco...I'm still hurt. I accept your apology but I'm still hurt. Besides, I need to say thank you to Harry and Ginny. Just...give me three days, alright? Three days to process all this a bit more, with a clearer mind."

He sighed, seeing the hurt in her eyes. "Alright...okay. Three days. But please, come back soon. I need my wife." he smiled softly, touching her chin with his finger.

Hermione nodded. "I need you too."

And so, Draco got out of bed, kissed his wife and disappeared into the fireplace.

Once he was gone, sure that he wasn't coming back, Hermione laid back down in her sea of pillows and wept.

It came as a surprise that she had tears left in her, but the new emotions brought a fresh wave of tears. Of course she was relieved she and Draco made up, but the hurt was still there. Memories flooded her mind and this time, she didn't bother stopping them.

Harrry and Ginny walked liesurely down the long hall of the Ministry back to Harry's office, arm in arm. The red-head witch laughed and playfully shoved her husband. Harry opened the office door to find the platinum-blond wizard leaning against his desk. The couple froze, eyeing him with suspicion.

Draco had his arms crossed, worry lining his long face. "Morning Potter, Weasley."

Ginny sighed. "You know, we call you Draco, why do you still call us by our last name's?" her voice traced with annoyance.

"Old habit I haven't yet broken, I suppose." he offered, shrugging his heavy shoulders.

Harry's office was cluttered with papers, making the space feel small, confined.

"What's brought you by? I thought you and Hermione talked yesterday?" Harry asked, letting go of Ginny's hand.

"We did but...this morning she asked me to leave. She wants more time." his head shook with disbelief.

Ginny looked at Harry nervously. "I hope you're not here to ask us to talk to her again." her tone now defensive.

To their surprise, Draco shook his head. "No," he laughed. "I'm not that stupid. But if you could, just let me know how she is? For the next three days?"

The couple agreed curtly. "I don't mean to be rude but we had uhm...plans for our lunch hour." Harry said awkwardly.

Taking the hint, Draco waved in thanks and left.

Hermione hadn't gotten out of bed yet today, and to be honest she didn't plan on it. She had hardly gotten any sleep last night and when she woke up she found her sleepy thoughts had followed her to consciousness. Her tiny hands gripped her blankets and drew them close to her face, as if this would banish the memories. The day of her miscarriage was so clear in front of her again she could scream.

_Hermione had insisted going through with her pregnancy the muggle way (not that there was too much of a difference between muggle and wizard ways, but it was what she wanted), and the doctor was looking at the couple solemnly. The older man pinched the bridge of his nose as he found the most gentle way to explain what had happened. But there was no gentle way. The word miscarriage rang in both Hermione's and Draco's ears, but neither could believe what they had just heard. _

_"Excuse me?" Draco spat, his face turning a shade of red. _

_Hermione placed a shaky hand on his arm. "Draco!" she scolded, fighting to hold back tears of her own. _

_"I'm terribly sorry, I really am. It's never delightful giving expecting parents this news. Let me get some pamphlets and recommendations of counseling services; that will allow you two a minute?" _

_But it was hardly a question as the doctor rose from his desk and exited the office. _

_Hermione turned to cry on he husband's shoulder but found Draco towering over her, his face screwed up in a mix of anger and shock. "Draco...please sit. I know this is horrific but please just sit. We'll-" _

_"If we hadn't done this the muggle way, maybe this wouldn't have happened." his tone was cold, unforgiving in this moment. "If I hadn't let you win, you stubborn woman, maybe there was something that could have been done." his eyes were shining with tears and his hands were balled into fists. He felt as if his heart had just been ripped in two, fire pumping through his veins. _

_She wanted to retort, to scream and fight back, like she always did. But she didn't have the strength. Every limb felt heavy, like she was made of lead. Hermione didn't dare look into Draco's eyes, knowing full well it would set her off into a storm of tears. So she said nothing. Instead she placed two hands on her stomach, where the child was growing and developing just hours prior, and squeezed her eyes shut. _

_"Leave." she said through clenched teeth, finally meeting Draco's cold eyes._

_He stared at her for a moment longer, the anger still coursing through him, before stalking out of the office and disappearing from her sight. _

_She waited for the doctor to come back, politely accepted the resources and asked if she could go before apparating to her best friend's front door, tears finally streaming down her pale cheeks. _

Draco sat in their living room; the house feeling eerily empty without the witch's presence. Their property was rather large; a three story house completed with a garden and their own private Quidditch field (not that it was used often). The living room was filled with moving photographs of the two of them; random picnics, nights out in London (he now shamelessly admitted he adored Muggle London), their wedding day, and of course photographs from Holiday gatherings. A surge of anger and frustration rushed through his veins, not with her, but with himself. Why the fuck did he act that way on that dreadful day? Why had he been so horribly selfish?

If he hadn't, Hermione would be sitting here, cuddling with him on their lumpy sofa, her vanilla scent filling his nostrils. But no. His fucking temper had pushed her away for two months. Two fucking months without her golden eyes scanning his lean body, her lean fingers running through his hair, muttering sweet nothings into his ear..._stop_, he told himself. This wasn't helping. Sitting here spinning fantasies wasn't going to get his wife back.

The ache in his heart grew stronger as a baffling question entered his scattered brain. What would get his wife back?

It wasn't just the flashbacks that caused her body to shake with anger, but whatever else it was...she couldn't even begin to put a finger on it. And that just pissed her off more. Still laying in bed, she began to see red. Everything was making her so. angry.

She looked around her room, trying to find something to occupy her bottled up energy...anger. Her golden brown eyes fell to a stack of papers sitting in a corner; her old notes from Hogwarts she had for some reason, kept. A smile twitched at her lips and she drew out her wand. She muttered 'Wingardium Leviosa' and let the stack follow her out to the spacious backyard of her best friend's house.

A subtle winter wind rustled her matted hair as she glanced up at the puffy white clouds; ironic that today was so calm, and peaceful when rage was coursing through her tiny frame. Without wanting to waste any more time, eager to get out her frustration, she landed the stack of papers and with a quick flick of her wand and mutter from her mouth, the papers were engulfed in flames. She watched as thousands of scribbled notes disappeared, slipping into nothing but ashes and smoke. The flames danced along with the ones in her heart.

Hermione was easily entraced by the fire she had created, subconsciously amazed that she had the ability to create this and partially giving in to the peace that was washing over her body. The heat radiated onto her face, and she slowly closed her eyes in the comforting heat. She stood there, eyes closed, muscles relaxing, entraced by the disappearing papers.

Normally, Hermione would have held her pride and thrown out thousands of 'I'm fine's' to her husband and friends. But being with Draco for nine years had no doubtedly changed her. He may have been explosively angry at times, causing throat-splitting screams, but he had a point when it came to releasing anger. Of course she refused to admit it for months, her Gryffindor pride getting the best of her, but he had forced that out of her in an argument. They used to do a lot of that...arguing, and right now, despite having told her husband she wanted to be alone, Hermione found herself missing his lean arms wrapped protectively around her.

The new train of thoughts just made her angrier and suddenly the stack of papers engulfed in flames seemed to be doing nothing to soothe the rage. She furrowed her eyebrows, puffing out a sigh to move a few loose strands of hair. Hermione extinguished the flames with her wand, leaving a pile of ash sitting a few feet from her. She raised her wand in the air, muttered an incantion, and watched in satisfaction as flames shot out of her wind. A smile cracked her stiff lips and she began to wave her arm in swift motions, making patterns and shapes in the air with the roaring flames. This she had complete control over. The size, the pace, the ferocity of the flames was all at the hand of it's caster.

She felt alive for the first time in two months.

"Hermione?" two sychronized tones rang in to her ears.

She glanced over to see a worried looking witch and wizard studying her carefully. She smiled briefly at them and waved with her free hand.

Harry went to ask what she was doing but Ginny surreptitiously shook her head and widened her eyes. He looked at her with confusion before understanding what she meant. "It's nice to see you out of the house! How are you feeling?" he tried to keep his voice steady but the odd behavior from his best friend was making him worry.

"I figured it wasn't doing any good staying holed up in my room." was all she said, her focus still on the flames dancing and twirling in mid-air contrasting with the bright blue sky.

"Right. Good. We'll just go inside then?" Harry proposed, shrugging his shoulders to his wife now frowning at him, clearly not pleased with his reply.

Hermione nodded, now changing the color of the flames to a bright purple. Ginny and Harry started towards the back door but just before they were about to reach for the door, the other witch's voice called out their names.

"Harry? Ginny?" her voice timid.

They turned to face the brown-eyed witch.

"I think I'll be joining you for dinner tonight."

Both Harry and Ginny inhaled sharp breaths of shock.

Harry and Ginny sat in whispers, extremely dumbfounded and slightly over-concerned with Hermione. She hadn't been out of her room for more than using the bathroom, and even then, she only showered when they went to bed. She hadn't even looked at James since she came to live with them. And now their mourning friend was going to be in the same room as the three of them, a happy little family with no recent truama to their lives.

"How should we even handle this?" Harry asked, running his hands through his nowhere near tidy hair. "I mean, should we tell her she doesn't have to go through with it or let her leave if she wants to...I don't know." her nearly growled with frustration.

Ginny replied with a shake of her long red hair. "No. Telling her she doesn't have to eat with us will just make her mad, and I don't think she should be coddled either. She's a grown woman and treating her like we treat James...it's just a bad idea. We'll just...go about as normal. A bit more sensitive obviously, but normal. And maybe we shouldn't bring up Draco..." she noted thoughtfully.

Harry agreed and headed off to the bathroom for a shower. Ginny rose from the couch and slowly walked to the window of her kitchen, giving her a perfect view of her backyard. Hermione was still playing with the fire, the back of her head facing Ginny. The red head blew out a deep breath, and rubbed her hands together. Anxiety had taken over her body lately and she still hadn't been able to shake it. The stress of having her best friend around along with work and James was sometimes a bit too much, not that she ever showed it. Harry always got overly worried when Ginny was the slightest bit stressed; always asking her if she was okay, if she needs anything. It's not that Ginny was unappreciative but Harry could be a bit a much but she never had the heart to tell him. So she accepted his copious cups of tea and shoulder rubs and constant questions. But over time, she had learned to keep her mouth shut if she could handle it on her own.

Knowing Harry would be back from his shower soon, Ginny stepped away from the shower and sat back down on the couch. She closed her blue eyes and took three deep breaths. It had a little exercise she discovered that helped calm her down. She began to focus on each individual muscle, starting with her forehead, tensing and relaxing. Slowly but surely, the anxiety began to flow out of her body. _Deep breath Ginny_, she whispered to herself. _You're strong, remember? Ginny Weasley. Good at hexes, excellent auror, you can handle anything... _

Right?

Draco walked outside, broom slung over his shoulders just like the old days. The air was crisp but the sky was clear; perfect flying conditions.

He had sulked in the living room for a good hour, trying to find ways to get Hermione back as soon as possible, but all it had done was make him feel hopeless. So he stood up, determined to shake off his current emotions. He needed a clear mind, peace...deserved it.

He mounted his broom, gave a quick scan of the sky and kicked off. Soaring into the air, he felt the cold wind rustle his blond hair in every direction. The cold wrapped around him as he did a few dives and loops. Draco began to feel his mind clear, solely focusing on his next move. His knuckles growing bright red as the wind attacked every inch of his skin, showing no mercy. But he didn't care; his mind was so focused on flying and the cold that there was no room for thoughts of Hermione.

Part of him was starting to feel guilty for feeling so carefree in this moment, but didn't he deserve to feel carefree? He lost his child...but he also hurt his wife...

Draco tensed his jaw in frustration. He didn't want to think about any of this right now. He wanted his brain to rest, to just shut up for a few minutes.

Dark clouds started to roll in from the distance, and Draco wasted no time landing on the ground and heading inside. Flying in the rain or snow was a bitch, not to mention cold and wet was not his favorite combination. So he stored his broom in the closet and went to change into a jumper and trousers.

The house was dark, with no lights on and the sky now a dark shade of gray. January loved bringing a mix of storms and snow. His feet trudged down the hall towards his bedroom, his heart feeling just as heavy as his feet. Thoughts of what he and Hermione would be doing right now were swirling in his tired mind. It was Tuesday and only Hermione would have work the next day. It was also the one night a week where Hermione would teach him a new muggle recipe. It had taken him years to even make simple foods the muggle way. And it was only when they learned Hermione was with child that Draco wanted to seriously learn how to cook. She was so excited when he first asked her to teach him...her smile lighting up the room like always.

A low rumble of thunder pulled Draco out of his revere and it was then when he realized where his feet had carried him. A poster of ducks waddling to a pond...little ducklings trailing behind the mother. The baby's nursery...

His breath hitched as his hand reached for the door handle. Why he was going in here he had no idea; he knew it would only bring him pain, and wasn't he in enough already?

Rain started pattering the windows as Draco pushed open the door slowly. The ceiling was decorated with the night sky...stars glittering the ceiling surround by a dark blue. A crib sat against the wall to his left, a rocking chair a few feet away from the crib. A pang of sorrow pierced through his chest...it had ben the rocking chair his mum had had in his nursery. The chair was 28 years old and it still didn't make a single creak. A stuffed rabbit and bear sat in the opposite corner of the rocking chair, right next to a dresser that was thankfully still empty.

Hermione had wanted to have everything ready in plenty of time.

He laughed at the memory, the memory that seemed so distant now. She had sat him down with color swatches and catalogs and ideas scribbled all over various pieces of paper. She was so serious, so determined to make sure it would all be done in time.

Another crack of thunder rumbled against the walls, making Draco jump. He wandered over to the stuffed teddy bear and picked it up gingerly, feeling the soft fur between his fingers. Something lurched in his stomach as tears sprung to his eyes. He sat down in the rocking chair, clutching the teddy bear just a little bit harder.

Flashes of what their future with their child tortured his sight, the frustration and anger inside him growing. The rain was falling harder now, slashing against the windows. Draco squeezed his eyes shut in attempt to block the images, but it was useless. Tears were leaking out of his eyes as he began to scream. He threw the bear away from him and rose to his feet. His chest heaving and his head now aching, he glared at his surroundings.

He wanted to destroy every inch of it...nothing but could-be memories existed here. More anger surged through his veins like electricity, his bones shaking with rage. Why did this have to happen to them? What did they do to deserve this?

Unknown answers, that's all he had right now. No child, no wife. Just the storm and his thoughts. His fucking merciless thoughts.

"SHUT UP!" he growled as loud as he could; his own voice mixing with the thunder.

But it was useless. He could scream and yell and curse until his throat bled but it would do no good. His head was pounding as his thoughts continued to scream at him. The weight of his body felt too much, he didn't want to stand. So he let his body slowly sink to the floor as the tears flooded freely down his slightly-sunken cheeks. A nasty storm raging on around him and inside him. There was nothing left to do but to let it blow over...

Ginny set the table with the last of the side dishes and fiddled with the silverware already laid out on the table. James sat in his high-chair, while Harry placed a pint of pumpkin juice on the table. Neither one of them spoke, too afraid they would speak their minds and Hermione would he them.

But after a minute or two of just staring at the food, Ginny spoke up. "Call Hermione for dinner, please."

Harry nodded and wandered to Hermione's room. "'Mione, dinner's ready." he said, leaning his head against the door. He heard footsteps and mumbling before his best friend opened the door, a smile on her face. An odd, out of place smile. "Let's eat!" she said happily, clapping her hands together.

**~A/N: Sorry it took so long for the upload! I don't have Word on my computer so I was using notepad at first and then I got Word online but I also struggled with writer's block. I'll try to have the next chapter up within a week. I know not too many exciting things have happened, and I promise there will be more scenes between our two favorite characters...but just be patient! Next chapter will be a bit more exciting, I promise! Also, I'm going to be starting a new fic so keep an eye out for that...Happy reading! Please review!~ **


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